Why Would I Take My Kids on an Overnight Hike?

If you’ve ever heard someone say, “We’re taking the kids hiking this weekend,” and your immediate thought is:

“What?! How?! Where do you start? I don’t even know what questions to ask.”

You’re not alone.

It can sound like a massive undertaking when you’ve never done it before.

Plus, if your kids thrive on structure and routine, the predictability of home becomes a bit of a security blanket.

Trust me, I’ve been there with my own kids.

At home, you know when dinner happens. You know when the kids have a bath, when the lights go out, where everyone sleeps, and what to do if someone gets cold, hungry, bored, or upset.

Then you picture taking all of that away and sleeping somewhere else in the middle of nowhere, with no security blanket, and an unpredictable outcome.

This is where the stress levels begin to rise. It feels like there are a million things to think about, all the ‘what if’ scenarios race through your head, the overwhelm takes over.

It’s usually at this point, within seconds of someone saying, “We’re taking the kids hiking this weekend,” you promptly decide:

“No, not for me. Too hard basket. My mum brain is already full of all the things we already do on a weekly basis. I have no room for the stress of something like that too.”

And fair enough.

Between getting the kids to and from school and extra-curricular activities, making sure everyone is fed and clean, the house is in a mildly respectable state of organised chaos.

Where in there do you find space to remove the family, by choice might I add, and plonk them into an unfamiliar environment, with an unknown bedtime, definitely not clean, eating food they might not be fully onboard with?

Why?

Honestly, it’s a fair question.

• Why would you voluntarily make life harder?

• Why would you take away the bathroom that is approximately three metres from your kids bedroom?

• Why would you choose to cook dinner  outside, with limited equipment, that you’ve just carried on your back and possibly a child complaining that they don’t like what you’ve made?

• Why would you willingly put yourself in a situation that’s not right next to the car, or a short drive back home to comfort and ease?

  
  

Why would you add another thing to your already very full plate?

Because that’s what it looks like from the outside.

It looks like your voluntarily pouring fuel of an already roaring fire.

More planning.

More packing.

More things to remember.

More opportunities for someone to be cold, hungry, tired, bored, uncomfortable or unhappy.

And if you’re the mum who is usually the one thinking about all of those things anyway, I can see why your first reaction might be: Absolutely not.

You don’t need another person telling you that getting outdoors is good for your kids.

You already know that.

You don’t need someone telling you that they’ll love the adventure, learn resilience and make wonderful memories.

Maybe they will.

But right now, you’re thinking about the practicalities of the whole thing:

• You’re thinking about the fact that your youngest doesn’t sleep particularly well.

• You’re thinking about the fact that one of your kids is incredibly fussy with food.

• You’re thinking about the fact that someone will inevitably need the toilet five minutes after you’ve settled into bed, and if it doesn’t get sorted now, a clean bed and washing machine are miles away.

• You’re thinking about rain.

• You’re thinking about cold.

• You’re thinking about what happens if someone gets hurt.

• You’re thinking about what happens if everyone has had enough and you are still nowhere near home.

And you’re thinking:

“This sounds exhausting, daunting, too much.”

I get it.

Because when you’ve spent years making sure everyone else is okay, the idea of deliberately putting your family somewhere outside your normal routine can feel completely backwards.

What if it rains?

What if they don’t sleep?

What if they’re freezing?

What if they’re hungry?

What if they hate it?

What if you get all the way there and realise you’ve forgotten something important?

What if your child decides that walking another metre is simply no longer an option?

What if? What if? What if?

No wonder your brain says no.

But here’s the thing I’ve realised.

Sometimes we don’t actually need to know exactly how something is going to go before we give ourselves permission to try it.

Because if we waited until we knew that our kids would sleep perfectly, eat everything we packed and happily walk every kilometre we asked them to…

We’d probably never leave the house.

And maybe that’s the part we forget.

An overnight hike DOESN’T have to be some huge, epic family adventure where everything goes perfectly and you all sit around the campfire laughing as the sun sets over the mountains.

It can be messy.

Someone can be grumpy.

Someone can wake up in the night.

Dinner might be less than impressive.

You might wonder, at least once, “What on

earth have I done?”

And that’s okay.

Because maybe the goal isn’t to create the perfect overnight adventure.

Maybe the goal is simply to experience something different together.

To step outside the little bubble of school, work, sport, dinner, bath, bedtime and repeat.

To see what happens when there isn’t a perfectly structured afternoon.

To let your kids experience you doing something outside your normal routine.

To discover that perhaps they can cope with more than you thought they could.

And perhaps, more importantly, to discover that you can too.

Because I think that’s what can be so easy to miss when you’re standing at the beginning of this.

You’re not just wondering whether your kids are ready.

You’re wondering whether you are ready to be responsible for them somewhere unfamiliar.

And that’s a much bigger question.

You don’t need to suddenly become some ultra-confident outdoorsy mum whose got her life all figured out, knows exactly what to pack, where to go and what to do when things don’t go to plan.

You just need to be willing to take one small step outside what you already know.

And honestly?

That might be the hardest part.

Not the tent.

Not the sleeping bags.

Not the food.

Not even the walking.

The hardest part might simply be convincing yourself that you are allowed to try.

• You are allowed to not know everything.

• You are allowed to feel nervous.

• You are allowed to think, “This sounds like a terrible idea.”

• You are allowed to take it slowly.

• And you are absolutely allowed to change your mind if something isn’t right.

  
  

But if you’ve been sitting on the sidelines thinking that overnight hiking with your kids is something other families do, something you’re not outdoorsy enough for, or something that would simply be too much work…

Maybe don’t write yourself off just yet.

Because sometimes the things that look like more work from the outside turn out to be the things that give you something you didn’t realise you were missing.

And maybe that’s why we do it.

Not because it’s easy.

Not because everything goes to plan.

Not because our kids suddenly become perfectly behaved little adventurers.

But because, every now and then, it’s worth packing up the family, leaving the comfort of home behind and finding out what you’re all capable of.

You might surprise yourself.